


The 12th Day

by stephluvvsyou



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 01:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephluvvsyou/pseuds/stephluvvsyou
Summary: On day 12...Miguel opened his eyes.





	The 12th Day

It was day 12. 

The longest 12 days that she’d perhaps ever experienced in her life. 

And much to her father’s dismay, she’d been here for every single one of them.

Doctors came and went. 

They said scary things like, “we have no way of knowing if he’ll wake up any time soon,” and “he could be facing paralysis.” 

And when she drifted off to sleep, usually with her head on his arm, clutching and holding his hand tightly, she would always have the same nightmare. Flashes and images, of the way he’d looked when he’d landed on the railing; toppling over onto the stairs. Broken, bruised, bleeding. 

They’d screamed his name, but he hadn’t responded. All she’d wanted to do was grab him up in her arms and run her hand through his hair, but they hadn’t been allowed to touch him at all; lest they risk doing more damage to him.

This was all her fault.

She was just a kid, but she was smarter than she’d been acting. Allowing her emotions get the best of her at the worst of times. So many people…

Friends.  
Enemies.

And a couple of boys…that were more special to her than the rest. 

All angry, confused, and hurt. Involved in a heated and violent battle.

And it’d all started with her.

Her body shook slightly when an emotional sob escaped her. Sitting here, at his bedside; it was lunch hour. Which meant she finally got her hour alone with him. No noise besides the beeping of the pulse monitor. 

No nurses coming in and out to checkup on him. No visitors chattering.

She scooted her chair up closer to the side of the bed, and carefully entwined her fingers into his limp, and way to lifeless like hand. Her right arm, she gingerly rested over his midsection; while her head, she rested delicately on his side.  
How badly she wished he was holding her right now. 

The thought that he may never again made her eyes burn red, with sadness and pain for him; and anger and frustration for herself.

She nestled into him a little further, although still being careful as she squeezed her eyes shut and emitted some muffled cries into his side.  
If only she could take it all back. If only she could do it all over again.

She loved him so much.

And she felt so stupid, for how she’d handled that love.

She spent a couple of minutes crying, getting it out and exhausting herself in the process. And when she felt his hand very subtly move in hers, she dismissed it. He had twitched some before already, and the doctor said that it would happen every so often.

“Why are you crying?”

That, however, caused her to fall completely quiet, and she felt her breath catch. All she could hear was the thumping of her own heart as it pounded against the inner walls of her chest.   
Was she dreaming right now? Had she fallen asleep?

“Sam…?”

His voice was quiet. Feeble. Weak. Shaky. Raspy.

But it was his.

She picked her head up, her eyes brimming in teary, liquid messes. And with those water filled, tired eyes, she found his two baby browns looking right back at her. 

“Oh my – “ she started, choking out the words, finding it suddenly hard to speak, “Oh my god, I – “  
She felt frantic all of a sudden. He was awake. 

Miguel was awake.

What was she supposed to do? Call the doctor? Call his mom? Call her dad? Answer his question? What? 

The doctor. Definitely that one first. 

Maybe she could get the doctor, while on the phone to his mom. Or should she wait to call his mom until the doctor said she should? No, that’s silly, she should definitely call his mom, right?

“What are you – “ his voice cut through her period of distress, and she stilled slightly at the sound of him once again, “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

Welp.

The flood gates broke. Hard.

She was so overwhelmed, that for a second she was crouched on the ground. Her hand still squeezing his, because she felt like she never wanted to let it go again. Then when she’d heaved herself back up, by using the railing of his bed, she was torn between looking at him (though that made her cry harder), and not looking at him (but that made her cry too), so really she was pretty screwed. 

And she still hadn’t gone to get a doctor.

“I didn’t think – I can’t believe – and I’m not – and you’re awake – and I should – “ 

As limited as his movement was, Miguel felt one of his eyebrows raise slightly. He hadn’t understood a damn word that’d just come out of her mouth. “Uh, what?”

Sam fell quiet, her gaze pointed at him as she let out a long and heavy emotional sob. And then, her self-control left the building.

“I thought I’d never get to hear your voice again!” she let out, as she pretty much flung herself on top of him. 

Miguel groaned, his body stiff as he felt her weight on his chest. Her hair splayed over part of his face as he felt her embrace enclose around him and squeeze gently. The initial pain of the physicality had taken his breath away, but, not for long. He definitely felt sore, but, if his sensei were here – he’d probably just tell him he was being a pussy.

He willed himself to flex his muscles enough that he woke up his fingers, but unfortunately, the ones in his arms must have still been decently asleep, because he couldn’t lift them. He wished he could. He wanted to hug her back.  
He blew as much of her hair out of his face as he could, and tilted his head slightly, before immediately regretting that decision as a sharp pain shot through the back of his head. “Shit, shit!” he cursed, causing Sam to lift her head to look at him.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up now and getting on her feet again. She peered down at him with concern. 

“I just…tried to move and it didn’t feel so great.” Miguel responded, still however, flexing his fingers. They seemed to be fine.

“Okay just hang on,” Sam instructed, holding up a hand in a “halt” gesture, “I’m going to go get the doctor.”

She turned her back and almost had launched into her sprint out of the room, but his voice stopped her again.

“What happened to your arm?”

Oh. Right. That.

Her stitches were supposed to have been taken out 2 days ago, but, the cut had been deeper than anyone thought. 

Silently, she turned around to gaze at Miguel once more. His eyes held fear, and concern. 

Neither said anything for a few seconds. Sam slowly reached down for his hand again. She grasped it in hers, and her heart did flips when she felt his fingers squeeze back this time. She carefully sat down on the side of his bed again.  
“What…exactly do you remember? About…” she trailed off, her eyes averting downwards, as if she felt ashamed to even bring up the subject. “…you know.”

Miguel felt his face sinking slightly, the remembrance of just how brutal it had all been. “Just that…you and Tory were fighting.” He let out a defeated sounding sigh, “And I tried to stop it.”

Sam didn’t speak, rather, her eyes did all the communicating. She sadly peered towards him once more, and then watched as his eyes widened slightly.

“Wait, what? Tory??” Miguel felt his body shifting slightly, and he didn’t know if it was against it’s will or not. “Tory did this??”

Sam placed her free hand on his midsection, in an attempt to calm him, and it did. He slumped back down the small bit he’d managed to move himself. But he still found himself feeling quite upset, and fighting the urge to enter a state of denial as well.  
“Don’t, Miguel, please.” Sam spoke softly out in a plead, “You’ve been through enough because of me, and it’s just as much my fault as it is Tory’s for fighting like that in the first place.”  
She shook her head slightly, turning away from him in an attempt to ignore his look of disbelief. She now cradled his one hand in both of hers, and their tangle of fingers rested on her lap, as another tear threatened to fall down her face, “God it was all so stupid. If I would have just…” she paused once again, for a brief second, “I should have just told Robby the truth. I should have told you the truth. Then none of this would have happened and everyone wouldn’t have suff-“

“I’m sorry.”

She swallowed the words she had been meaning to say, and uttered a breathless, “What?” in his direction.

He suddenly looked so sad.

“I’m sorry Sam.” He muttered, in a sorrowful tone as he squeezed her hand gently with his, “I should have tried harder to protect you and keep you safe.” 

Sam was slightly shaking her head, as she turned more onto the bed, shifting one of her legs onto it, “No, no you don’t get to blame yourself for this. You are not responsible for Tory’s behavior, or mine.”

“But I’m responsible for mine. And I should have done more. I could have done more.”

Sam could see now that his eyes were getting a little watery too. And she felt that if he broke, so would she; again. She let go of his hand again and scooted up the side of the bed, until she was leaning over his face with hers. She brought one of her hands to his cheek.

“Miguel, this is not your fault. It’s not.”

She then lifted her hand to run it through his unkempt hair. And he closed his eyes, because it felt so good. 

When he opened them up again, he found the strength to move his arm, now placing a hand on her cheek as well, “From now on…for as long as the gods above will it…I will never let anything hurt you, not ever again.”

She felt lighthearted, to feel his warmth, his touch once more, when just a mere hour ago she was weeping over the fact that she might never get to feel it again. And as she closed her eyes, to sink into him, she knew in her heart that he meant every single word.


End file.
